Perfect to Me
by SageK
Summary: Prompt: I want to see Sam having some kind of melt down. Like, we know he could have some body image issues, so I want the boy to have a bit of a break down and have Blaine there to help him through it.


In retrospect, Blaine thought he was probably a very bad friend following the final implosion of his and Kurt's relationship. Sure, he'd been a mourning, but Sam had gone through a breakup too (albeit of a shorter relationship, though he had thought he was married for a few days) and he was always there with junk food and movies or welcoming hug to try to cheer Blaine up.

Blaine felt he should've noticed that Sam barely touched the food, was distracted and listless through the films and held on just a little too hard when Blaine cried on his shoulder.

When Blaine finally allowed himself to be dragged out of his self-pity party, he realized Sam was a bit off. He'd lost a few pounds that he really couldn't afford to lose (the boy had about 2% body fat, all of it cushioning organs or in his lips) and just looked tired all the time, though he kept pushing himself to work out like a man possessed.

No matter what Blaine said, he just shrugged it off and insisted he was fine.

After two months of that, Blaine's concern came to a head as they stood in his kitchen and Sam grabbed a plane stalk of celery instead of attacking the heaping plate of nachos. "Sam, please tell me what's wrong with you lately!"

Sam froze, celery trembling in his grip as he turned hurting green eyes at Blaine. "What's wrong with me?" he snapped, clearly upset. "You can see me. Isn't it obvious? Everyone else seems to think so."

Having no idea what was going on, Blaine asked, "What? You look a little tired and you need to gain a few pounds back, but…."

"No!" Sam said, tossing the vegetable down onto the counter. "Gain weight? Are you kidding? I do that and no one will ever want to stay with me. Not that it's helped so far, but if I work harder…."

All at once, things clicked horribly into place and Blaine's stomach lurched. He wanted to reach out and pull Sam into a tight hug, but Sam looked oddly fragile, broad shoulders slumped and green eyes a little wild. "Sam, is this about Brittany…?"

"No. Yes…Everything. Every time I let myself care, I get dumped. Cast off for someone or something better," Sam muttered, suddenly dropping down to sit with his back against the kitchen cabinet. "Well, no, once I didn't get dumped, but that was messed up already. What kind of healthy relationship can a 16-year-old stripper have?"

Cautiously, Blaine lowered himself to his knees beside Sam, heart aching for his friend and at a loss as to how Sam didn't realize how extraordinary he was. "Sam, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you."

He snorted. "You're the only one who thinks so."

Squeezing his eyes closed, Blaine decided to try another track. "You know how I felt like a bad person for a long time?"

Sam nodded slowly. "You're not. You're the best guy I know."

That drew weak smile from Blaine. "That's taking things a bit far…but I think you're the best person I know. What I meant was, you're feeling down now, like I was, and you helped me so much and am so sorry it took me this long to return the favor."

"I just need to be better," Sam mumbled. "If I'm good enough, someone will want to love me…Why are you crying?"

Blaine hadn't realized he was, but now that Sam mentioned it… "Sam," he murmured softly, reaching out and rubbing Sam's shoulder. "You're wonderful. Practically perfect…."

"You're just saying that because…."

"No!" Blaine interrupted firmly, deciding it was time for drastic action. Quickly, before Sam could react, he swung his legs over Sam's, straddling him and sitting on his thighs so that they were face-to-face. Sam was clearly startled and Blaine grabbed his chin in both hands, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"You are the most amazing person, Sam," he intoned very seriously. "I'm sorry you were made to think otherwise, but anyone who can't see it is blind. You are perfect because you are you."

"I know four girls would disagree," Sam murmured morosely. "I'm a dumb dork. Usually geeks are at least smart, but I'm…."

"I love you," Blaine blurted, surprising himself. "I do. You probably don't want hear this, but if I thought you were remotely interested, I could fall in love with you so easily and I would never let you go because I feel so lucky to have you."

Sam's eyes were big and startled, but he didn't look disgusted aren't comfortable, just disbelieving. "You love me?" he asked, clearly doubtful. "Why?"

Leaning in, Blaine pressed a soft kiss to Sam's brow. "Because you're the kindest soul I know. Because you love with your whole heart even though you've been hurt. No one else stuck with me when I was at my lowest, but every time I just wanted to wallow in how much I hated myself you were there. You're funny and brighter than you give yourself credit for. You wouldn't have gotten into art school if were dumb, Sam…A little naïve maybe, but she just want to see the good in people," he rambled, placing his hands on Sam's shoulders and letting their brows touch. "Please believe me. I know you're hurting, but don't think it's because you need to change. You don't. You're beautiful, inside and out."

For a long moment, Sam just sat there, then he let out a shuddering breath and hugged Blaine fiercely. He hid his face against Blaine's neck, crying silently as Blaine rubbed circles between his shoulder blades.

" You're my best friend, Sam," he continued his quiet assurances. "You're stuck with me. We're going to be awesome in New York. Get cool apartment and have a great life. You'll see."

Sam stayed quiet for a long while, then eventually asked, "Do you think we could reheat those nachos?"

Chuckling, Blaine said, "Yeah."

They climbed to their feet and, after nachos took a trip to the microwave, Sam practically attacked the mountain of chips, salsa, sour cream, black olives, jalapenos and shredded cheese.

When they were down to picking melted cheese off of the platter, Sam said, "You know the one time I wasn't dumped was in Kentucky."

"Oh?" Blaine said, a little curious, as Sam didn't often go into detail about his life there, but hoping this wouldn't lead back to more crushing self-esteem issues. "What was different about her?"

"We worked at Dairy Queen together. I didn't go looking to get into stripping, just kind of fell into it. Neither of us was in a great place, but we clicked. It was nice to have someone I didn't have to lie to about what I was doing and didn't judge me. His name was Jack."

Blaine blinked. "Jack."

Sam nodded.

"You never let on that you like guys…."

He shrugged. "I just didn't want to have a label slapped on me… And honestly, sophomore year, I just wanted to fit in, then last year I was all about Mercedes. Then Brittany and I just seemed to understand each other…."

"Your focus was singular." Blaine understood that, loving someone so hard that the idea of wanting someone else seemed absurd.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I just realized that I'd never told you…haven't actually just come out and told anyone other than my family, but you're my best friend. I figured you should know."

"You told your parents?" Blaine asked, wondering how that went over with his good Christian family. "How did that go?"

Sam smiled a little. "Lots of hugs and reassurances that love is love as long as I'm happy. Stevie wants me to marry a boy so there won't be any more girls in the family. Mom bought me lube and condoms, which was so horrible, you don't even know…Stop laughing!"

His expression was too funny not to chuckle at. "Your mom bought…Did you use it?"

"God no," Sam grimaced. "Stevie and Stacy did. They found it, read the label, greased themselves up like pigs and had a grand old time sliding around the yard on their bellies. It was funny, but very very wrong."

Giggling, Blaine asked, "Why would anyone grease a pig?"

Because that was far more normal than lubed up children, which sounded wrong even in Blaine's head.

"Never seen a pig scramble?"

"I don't think I've ever seen an actual pig," Blaine commented evenly, which earned an eye roll from Sam.

"You and me are going to a 4-H show sometime," he said, he's usually very subtle accent thickening. "A pig scramble for kids is just a group little ones trying to catch piglets. The ones who do get to keep 'em. They make it harder for dealt as by greasin' up the pigs first…and they sure aren't piglets."

Blaine grinned. "Well, bless my heart, Sam Evans. You're going to make me swoon, going all Dukes of Hazard."

"Bite me."

That was in February.

Over the next couple of months, Blaine watched Sam bounced back to being Sam, keeping a careful eye on him for another bout of depression/self esteem/body image issues, but it seemed like that night in his kitchen had been the worst of it.

In April, as they were leaving the theater on a random Saturday, they had the misfortune to bump into three guys from the hockey team. While most of the bullying on school property had been dialed down, arrogant, bigoted jerks were still arrogant, bigoted jerks.

"Aw, you two on a little date? Knew you were a fag, Evans, with those cock sucker lips," Dumas, a pimply moron missing two teeth sneered.

Usually, Blaine believed in nonviolence, but sometimes anger could get the better of him. That night was one of those occasions.

He caught Dumas in the jaw with a very pretty left hook and the mulleted boy went down like a sack of bricks.

His cohorts, Larenz and Armand, gaped, blinking down at their now unconscious leader.

Rolling his neck, Blaine assumed a fighting stance and snapped, "Bring it on, putas!"

"Two against two is a fair fight," Sam said, sounding amused. "Not the odds these guys usually like."

Proving Sam right, the two goons grabbed Dumas and got the hell out of there.

"That was epic!"

A squeal behind them made Blaine spin, still running on testosterone, adrenaline and anger, fists raised and ready to strike.

Jacob Ben Isreal was standing there, camera raised in grinning a little maniacally. "One punch, pow, he was done! And the other two ran! This will strike a blow against those iceholes!"

Lane almost said something, but Sam grabbed his hand and tugged him away. "The less said to him, the better," he murmured. "You know he'll just edit anything he tapes. At least he seemed to think punching Dumas was a good thing, so he shouldn't screw around with that…Also, putas? You hanging around Santana on and not looking?"

"It's Tagalog," Blaine replied, letting Sam pulled him along, big hand warm around his. They piled into the car and Blaine flexed his left fist, looking down at the reddened knuckles.

Sam noticed the motion and reached out, gently catching his wrist and drawing the hand toward himself. Thumb ghosting over sore skin, he asked, "Anything feel busted?"

"No," Blaine assured him, opening his fist and wiggling his fingers. "That Cro-Magnon has a glass jaw."

"Still," Sam said, turning to fully face him, eyes bright and warm, "that was more than a little amazing. All Crouching Tiger, Hidden Badass."

It was impossible not to laugh at that, so Blaine did, grinning and nodding. "It was incredibly satisfying."

With Sam still holding his bruised hand, Blaine had to sit half turned in his seat, body angled toward his friend. They were both smiling, still red cheeked with the adrenaline of the near rumble.

Somehow, it wasn't a shock when Sam leaned in and fit his mouth to Blaine's in a gentle whisper of the kiss, lingering close and sharing each other's breath. Even the hint of contact sent a zing of sensation through Blaine and he returned the attention, freehand coming up to cup Sam's jaw as he initiated a second kiss, a little bolder, a little more…just more.

Clearly, the response worked for both of them and Sam sighed, lips parting to allow a tentative brush from Blaine's tongue.

Time got away from them as they sat there, learning the taste and feel of each other's mouths, sucking along jaws and nibbling at necks, hands wandering over clothes. It was a little cramped and awkward, but it was perfect.

Finally, they broke apart, breathing hard and still clutching at each other. Blaine's eyes roved over Sam's face, taking in the flushed cheeks, lust blown eyes and red, kiss swollen lips. Licking his own lips, he said, "I know you were planning to sleep over, but I don't want you to feel…."

"Dude, let's go to your house," Sam said, smiling and grabbing another kiss before moving back into his own seat. "We'll just see what happens."

Blaine grinned at him. "Sounds good. Want to watch The Hunger Games?"

"And make out on the couch."

"I like the way you think, Sam."

"Finally, someone who wants me for my mind."

Eyes soft, Blaine replied, "I want you for all of you."

Sam's smile was bright and the fear that had been living in Blaine's heart for the last few months eased when he realized his friend truly believed him.


End file.
